


Out Of Breath

by vommitkiddo



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Chronic Illness, Gen, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vommitkiddo/pseuds/vommitkiddo
Summary: Flower Kid has been diagnosed with a terminal illness, and realizes they've never been happy before. So they decide to go to a new treatment center called The Habitat. You can guess how things go from there.
Relationships: Flower Kid & Dr. Boris Habit, Flower Kid & Putunia Mollar, Flower Kid & Tiff Webber, Kamal Bora & Flower Kid
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey just a heads up this might be triggering to people who have dealt with terminal illness. If you're sensitive to that, please go to another fic.  
> Love you all,  
> Vom

Your chest felt heavy.  
You fiddle with your cannula nervously. You await the doctor's news, jiggling your leg and running your fingers through your hair.  
"It's all going to be alright, honey." your mom says, stroking your bony hand with one well-manicured tumb.  
You pulled your hand away. This wouldn't have happened if she hadn't been so reluctant to go to the hospital. You would have been fine if the doctors had caught this early on. But oh, no, the family's image. You didn't give two shits about the family's image, all you wanted was to be back in your greenhouse. Back with Nana in the shop.

A nurse came in to check your blood pressure. The hours ticked by, and the longer you spent in those industrial walls, the longer you spent with your mother, the more miserable you felt. You missed the dirt between your toes, the wind in your hair, the sunshine warming your back. There were no windows in your room, and you couldn't wait to strip off your socks and shoes and roll in the mud.

Suddenly there's a knock at the door. Your mother, rushing to open it, let's in Dr. Yasin, your primary care provider.  
"Well, Mrs. Atwood, I'm afraid I have some bad news."  
You've heard this before, and as she keeps speaking, you can predict every word she says. The tumor's back.  
Life saving surgery.  
Chemo.

But the next part is what really scares you.  
25% chance of survival.  
____________________________  
They release you from the hospital. Probably to 'say your goodbyes' or whatever. But that's not what you're thinking about.

Have you ever really enjoyed your life? You can't really think of a time that stands out to you as 'happy'. Not when you were little, with your mom leaving you to play in your room and your dad kicking you if you got underfoot. Not when you were in your elementary years, when that breathless feeling first started. Not now, at what might be the end of your life.

You used to think you were happy. You went to school, gardened with Nana, delivered flowers to all the happy people. But that wasn't happy. That was just nothing, a feeling of emptiness you've been feeling to this day.

You wonder if maybe someone could help you. Your mom wouldn't help. Like she ever cared about anything but 'the family', like that was a fucking thing. Your dad was…… gone. Nana could barely take care of herself.

So who could help you?

You sighed, deciding a game of Neopets could calm you down. You log on to your computer and that's when you see it.  
'Feelbing sad :-(? The Hbittat can help! Click tha linnk and find ur habbines agayn!!!!!'

It was silly. A little green puppet icon waved at you as you stared at the ad, going over to click it.

You were directed to the webpage, full of shitty clip art and comic sans typography, but somehow, you couldn't look away. Was this a sign from the universe? A chance to be happy?

You clicked on the 'Emale me:-)' link and we're directed to your AOL account. You took a breath in, then exhaled. You started to type.

Dr. Habit,  
My name is Clover Atwood and I am unhappy.


	2. Chapter 2

You hauled your air canister out the window, along with a bag full of clothes and other essentials.

One that was done, you took one last look at your childhood room, and found yourself unaffected by your feelings. You didn't have any good memories here. It was empty and barren. You were glad to leave.

You crawled out the window, then reattached your cannula to your nose. You didn't want to die too quickly. You glare at the house behind you, then take off into the night.

The taxi driver drops you off, and you immediately strip off your socks and shoes. You take a glance at your PDA, and it says that this is the place.

A tall, sprawling building with a courtyard and a strange tower greet you. No staff, no nothing. You check your email, and it says your room number and that everyone is already asleep.

You notice that the air smells different here, more of a relaxed scent. You like it.

Your bare feet slap on the sidewalk as you walk up to the front entrance. You struggle to open the door, but it gives out after a little pushing.

The building is dark. No one is there to greet you. You find the darkness somewhat calming. Almost more than calming. God, you're so tired.

Your footsteps echo throughout the building, and you're getting droopier.

You find your room, and can't even be bothered to check your vitals. You drift off into a dreamless sleep.

You wake up, and there's a girl at your door, about your age. She's staring at you with that look you're so accustomed to. The pity look. The look you always get when you're using your respirator.

You don't talk, just stand up and walk over to her.

"Hey, you're, uh, that flower delivery kid from down the street, right?"

You stay silent. She keeps talking.

"It's the afternoon, you know. You're quite the heavy sleeper." she says. "Anyway, you finally gave in, huh? Joined us all at the Habitat."

You stay quiet. She looks at you with distaste. "Hey, you, like, totally ignored my question."

You gulp. Your vocal cords have been in a state of disrepair since the last surgery, and you really, really don't want to fuck up your first conversation in the Habitat. She seems to notice your abrasion, and says,"Look, I know you've never really been muck of a talker, but you have to communicate somehow."

You remember how you talked to Nana. She didn't know sign language, so you had decided to nod your head instead.

You started nodding your head, and she looked surprised for a second, then regained her cool composure.

“Oh, cool, nodding. I guess that works.”

You learned her name was Nat, and that she liked the flowers you brought. She seemed happy after you talked. And it made you feel happy too.

That day, you met Mirphy, an australian photographer, and Dallas, an artist who really liked Mirphy. You helped Dallas figure out what she liked, then delivered a painting, and she seemed happy. So did he. You liked that, it made you feel warm inside. 

It started getting dark. “You should head to your room, little dude.” Dallas says, with a drowsy look on his face. You’re also feeling tired.

You stumble into your room. Your weird bed greets you with a flirty “come on inside me.”

You’re too tired to be grossed out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flower Kid has a nightmare.
> 
> heres a good song to go with the chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dipjEqqANek

Your days in the Habitat were.... interesting, say the least.

You met a clown, that weepy lady in the stairwell, a werewolf kid who...probably wasn't a werewolf, and that's not even starting the list of strange things going on.

But you met Nat's dad, a vampire named Trencil who shared your love of flora, and you were happy to be out in the open. Not locked up, not being constantly fawned over. And you liked fixing peoples problems. The smile on Trencil's face when he heard Nat say she loved him, Dallas's grin when you gave out his portraits. Yours still looks lovely in your room.

But something didnt sit right. You didn't really know this Dr. Habit guy, but something was off about him. You liked the puppet, you really did, but what the more you cheered everyone up, the more off-putting the PSAs would get. You decided to ignore it. Keep the good things close to your heart and ignore all the warning signs.

And everyone else in the Habitat. You didn't like to discuss it, but you knew what kinds of looks you got. the same look you got from nat, you got from ronbo, dallas, mirphy, everyone. Millie even asked, in her usual charming way, "The heck is that suitcase?" the suitcase, of course, being your air canister. You didn't respond.

you spend a lot of time talking to other people. you like talking to the other residents, even after their problems have been solved. you like the smiles on their faces. the warm way they greet you. you wish to be as happy as them.

your feet slap the linoleum as you round the staircase, hurrying to get to your room before curefew. You flop onto your bed, shuting up the stupid horse bed before it can creepily flirt with you. as you drift out of conciousness, you feel the nauseous feeling that usually accompanies a nightmade.

Fuck.  
\------------------------------------

you're in the meadow, sitting in you god-forsaken wheelchair. Your mom stands next to you. She smiles, and says, "you always said you wanted a greenhouse". 

You look in front of you, and suddenly you can stand, and breathe, as you look at the gorgeous glass structure in front of you. You feel a sense of euphoria.

"Is it really all mine?" you say, uninhibited by your mangled vocal cords. She smiles and nods.

you run, pushing your hair out of your face as you scramble for the door, and all is light. all is good.

the greenhouse smells of milk and honey, the soap you used to wash your hands with after a long day of gardening at your gran's house. the sun hits every angle perfectly. you feel the light on your face.

"it isn't really Jerusalem but it'll do.", you say to your mom. but shes not there anymore.

you search for her, peering behind plants and shrubs. and then you find her.

shes chaining the door shut.

"Mom, no!!" you try to say, but the blood starts flowing from your mouth and you bang on the door instead, trying to break the glass. but its dark and suddenly you cant breathe, so you try to claw breath from the air around you, but everything wrong. it all wrong. so you lie on the ground, waiting for morning, when the light comes back.

in the morning. Habit's PSA is a welcome distraction.


End file.
